


Ménage

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Collars, F/M, Ficlet, M/M, Multi, Puppy Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-15 00:08:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20609642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noctis’ worlds collide.





	Ménage

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

By the time the meeting’s finished, Noctis already knows he’s in the dog house. He plasters on the fake smile he always wears in public, shakes the hands of several officials he hopes to never see again, and makes a quick getaway to the car. Ignis doesn’t make note of his harried steps until they’re pulling out of the lot, and then he’s scolded, “That was a rather abrupt exit, Your Majesty.”

“I know,” Noctis sighs, offering no further explanation. Ignis already knows too much about him, is already close enough to school him. There are some discretions Noctis tries to keep to himself. He pulls out his phone as Ignis takes a left onto the freeway. It takes Noctis several attempts to get his message right. 

_I’m sorry, honey. The meeting ran late. I invited Prompto over for dinner tonight, but I really thought I’d be home with plenty of time to discuss it with you beforehand. Sorry._

When Luna doesn’t immediately answer, he adds, _It was incredibly boring, by the way. You were right not to come._

Still no answer. He debates sending a third, basically reiterating his apologies, but thinks better of it. He spends the entire ride home double checking his phone and hoping he won’t be sleeping in one of the manor’s numerous guest bedrooms. He tries to text Prompto and abort the whole mission, apologetically asking Prompto to politely excuse himself and go home, but Prompto doesn’t answer either. Unlike his wife, one borne of political necessity, Noctis knows Prompto well enough to rule out that he’s angry; it’s more likely Prompto’s phone died again. That or Luna confiscated it.

Noctis doesn’t think she’ll be angry at _Prompto_, exactly. She’s not like that. Noctis has, technically, known her since he was little—just limited to long distance letters and the few shorts months they’ve spent together ‘officially.’ They both had prior arrangements, but they’ve tried to make it work. He’s tried to be good to her. He’s still contemplating another text when Ignis pulls up to the manor.

“We should be at the Citadel tomorrow at six for the budget meeting,” Ignis recites. In other words, he’ll pick Noctis up bright and early. Noctis groans but nods. Ruling a country involves far too many early mornings. And it doesn’t help that he’s not likely to get much sleep tonight. 

He climbs out of the car with a muttered, “Thanks,” and heads up the driveway flanked by stiff Crownsguards. He’s still formulating his excuse as he lets himself in and discards his shoes and cape.

The jacket stays on—Luna likes his royal garb. He can still remember her smile at his coronation. She’s a wonderful, caring person who’s become an excellent wife and doesn’t deserve messy surprises. Noctis moves warily through the royal estate in search of her.

He finds her in the lounge, sitting cross-legged on the sofa, a book in her lap and her hand in Prompto’s hair.

Prompto’s kneeling on the floor, resting his cheek against her thigh. She’s lightly scratching behind the fake blond dog ears poking up through his hair. 

He’s wearing the headband they’re attached to, a thick black collar that Noctis bought him last year and he wears under his clothes when he’s feeling frisky, a fluffy tail that must be attached to a butt-plug jammed up inside him, and nothing else.

For a moment, Noctis just stands in the threshold, staring at him: fully done up in the sort of costume he’d wear for a night in with Noctis. Except Noctis wasn’t home, his wife was, and Prompto’s still, for all intents and purposes, buck-naked. 

His blue eyes are half-lidded in obvious contentment, a soft smile on his lips as he looks happily up at Luna. She’s the one to notice Noctis first. She glances at the doorway and stops her petting motion. That makes Prompto whine like the dog he’s pretending to be. 

Of course he didn’t tell Prompto to come over _naked_, but he still feels like he got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. It’s enough of a shock to the system to erase any pleasure he might feel at seeing Prompto’s gorgeous body, even with his pink cock nestled perfectly between his thighs and his rosy nipples pebbled in the cool evening air. Instead, Noctis looks only at Luna, waiting for the axe to fall.

With a perfectly diplomatic expression on her face, she notes, “He’s very pretty, Noct. I can see why you wanted to keep him.”

Prompto beams with pride. Noctis can only admit, “Yeah, he’s... he’s pretty great.”

“You should’ve shared him.”

He somehow quips, “Sorry,” even though it was never his intention to hoard his amazing best friend for himself. He clear his throat and says, “I, uh... I thought you had your own... people...” 

They discussed it before the marriage. They were both _allowed_ to keep their previous lovers—he never went behind her back. They were an arranged marriage, after all. But he’d never wanted to parade his affairs in front of her—just to introduce Prompto as a _friend_ and hope maybe the two of them would get along, since they’re the two most pleasant people he knows. 

Luna benevolently agrees, “I do. ...But none of them are as cute as Prompto here.” She turns to affectionately scratch under his chin, and Prompto visibly preens. Noctis almost feels betrayed—when Prompto’s in his puppy gear, he’s supposed to scamper over to his master, especially when his king has just come home.

Luna keeps her attention on Prompto but tells Noctis, “You should bring him around more often, Noct.”

Obviously, Prompto agrees. If his tail were real, it would be wagging. There’s hardly any jealousy in Noctis—he implicitly knows that Prompto adores him too.

It’s a weird scene to walk in on, but it’s much better than what he expected, and it’ll work out well for him in the future. Noctis sighs to release the tension of his worry and confusion, then finally wanders into the room.

He comes right up to the couch and bends down to grant Luna a chaste kiss, then a fierce one—he cups her cheek and presses close, tasting her bottom lip. When they part, he brushes back her yellow hair and murmurs, “You’re the best wife I could’ve asked for.”

She smiles so beautifully. With a twinkling laugh, she responds, “You’re not a bad husband yourself.”

He returns the smile. She collects his hand from her face, squeezing it and holding on as she gets up—he steps back to give her room. Her voice dips a bit lower to suggest, “How about we skip dinner and go straight to the bedroom?”

Noctis nods. Luna turns to go, then looks back and pats her hip, calling, “Prompto, come.”

Prompto lets out a poor impression of a bark and eagerly crawls after them.


End file.
